DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
He didn’t know what to expect – not anymore, not after the latest adventures, of journeying through tomes and portals, of glimpsing at mountains (which shouldn’t make his chest ache, but it does, it does, it does), and then shoved back through it all over again. Before long, they were back upon solid ground, his eyes blinking into the darkness, shifting into his full tiger form, feline eyes casting upon the familiarity of the Spire.
Of course.
The Sword had no great, fond memories of the damned place, but his eyes darted and glanced for the others – for Zuriel, for Amalia, for Kiada, for Jigano, broad skull and head lifting, swiveling, until finally the Shield’s voice rushed through their connections, and he bounded up the stairs, nearly rampaging over the Harpy in the process. We made it was a rumble and naught more, his main concern depleted (not surviving or getting out of the underground), and channeling, funneling, into a new exasperation. His voice was calm and composed, when portions of him were soon going to be anything but. Have you seen Zuriel?
Of course.
The Sword had no great, fond memories of the damned place, but his eyes darted and glanced for the others – for Zuriel, for Amalia, for Kiada, for Jigano, broad skull and head lifting, swiveling, until finally the Shield’s voice rushed through their connections, and he bounded up the stairs, nearly rampaging over the Harpy in the process. We made it was a rumble and naught more, his main concern depleted (not surviving or getting out of the underground), and channeling, funneling, into a new exasperation. His voice was calm and composed, when portions of him were soon going to be anything but. Have you seen Zuriel?
still standing
not because you can
but because you have to
